seasonal blahs

This is the second year that I've fallen off the blogging wagon in starting mid-February to late March, and I think you can look back to previous years and see at least a fall-off at the same time. The problem has gotten more pronounced since I've moved to mostly office work.

Back when I was out in the field all the time, I had access to light in the winter. Sure, it was weak winter light, and there were short days, but I was absorbing something even if I wore a million layers and had no skin exposed. After all these years, it's clear I have a bit of seasonal affective disorder (SAD) and everything sort of... grinds to a halt after a couple months of darkness. I keep writing for a couple months after November/December out of stubbornness, but then it's so hard to get motivated to keep up.

I don't have any real solutions, except to try and come back up for air sooner rather than later. But in the meantime, I'll keep plugging away.

the hawaiian shirt crew

I haven't told a random school story in a long time...

I mentioned before that I didn't really fit into my undergrad geology department. Part of the problem was possibly my own class-based awareness/resentment. The whole thing came to a head right at the end of my senior year.

The geology department had a field study course requirement. The department would alternate between a "cheap" (a couple hundred dollars extra) field course and a "fun" (sky was the limit) field course annually. They were pretty damn breezy about how one was to pay for the "fun" field course, and so I did the cheap one. Fine.

So one year the fun field course was in Hawaii. All the "cool kids" who made up the core of the "real geology students" went and they had a great time, all sorts of bonding, etc. They all came back with Hawaiian shirts, and the shirts became a sort of symbol of the department.

I went to a small liberal arts school (SLAC) which was inundated with long-running, somewhat quirky traditions. One of those traditions was that the president of the school held a series of dinner parties with the seniors, organized by department or group of departments. It was considered a breach of etiquette not to attend, but I had no interest in mingling with people who'd made it clear I didn't fit in, so I skipped it. As it turned out, the other students who were also on the outs with the department mostly skipped it as well.

Word had gone around to "the cool kids" that all the geology department folks (including the professors) were to wear Hawaiian shirts to the dinner party. Nobody told me; I heard about all this later from students in other departments. So most of the department, including all the professors, came to the dinner party wearing Hawaiian shirts. And the few who didn't, because they weren't told about the arrangement, got teased mercilessly by all the other students for not matching the rest of the department. Fun party.

Those damn Hawaiian shirts precipitated my complete break with the rest of the geology department. But that's ok; I persevered without any institutional or educational support. And I'm still out here, poking at rocks, doing cool science even if I never did become one of the cool kids.

Another inconvenient death.

I recently mentioned that I had a bunch of stories in my back pocket that were aging so that they wouldn't be quite as fresh in the memories of others. This is one of them.

A long time ago, I wrote about inconvenient deaths and fieldwork.

Sometimes life happens and you wriggle out of what you were doing to take care of it. Sometimes life happens and it's not that easy.

When my favorite person died, I was in the field. I couldn't just drop everything and go, because we were in the middle of nowhere and there was one truck. I may have tried to make other arrangements, but we only had one day left (I got the phone call at night after I got back from the hotel), so we were checking out anyway.

So there I was, trapped with a bunch of balky equipment and a long day in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of coworkers, and all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there and go home. But the best way to get out was to finish the job. I asked my coworkers to ignore me as much as possible, took the sampling locations that were as far as possible away from other people/bystanders, and spent the entire day snuffling over the equipment. I was a wreck. Part of my distress was that I'd realized that I'd been somewhat cavalier about going back for visits, because I didn't think that GF could go downhill that quickly after being sick and then mostly better for so long. 

We'd had a short week, so I had office work planned for the day after we got back. That following morning, I showed up in all black, announced that I was leaving for a wake that afternoon in x state, and hit the road without giving anybody at work a chance to do anything about it. I pretty much cried the entire way there. But I did make the afternoon wake.

The whole episode - the death, the fieldwork, the run back for the wake - crystallized for me the realization that I did have limits, that I wasn't going to sacrifice my most important relationships for a job, even during a lousy local recession. After the funeral, I took a hard look at what I was doing, my finances, and where I wanted to be in life. And I made some pretty drastic changes (not at once, but over a couple of years) to get back to a work/life balance I could live with. It's been working out so far.

another stress dream

I've been a bad blogger the last couple weeks. You can get a sense for how my February has been going from the dream I had this morning:

I stop by one of my big environmental sites (an extremely sensitive and public setting) and find that a strange drill rig is set up right on the front lawn. So I start asking people what's going on, and I find out that one of my subcontractors, which is a very high maintenance "we're the technical experts so we don't need to pay attention to any field direction" firm, has gone ahead and started a big drilling program without clearing it with me. They just called up the client and organized everything behind my back.

So I get mad. I start making phone calls, and I find out that the rogue subcontractor hasn't applied for any permits or utility clearance or anything, they just showed up with a drill rig and started poking holes. And they call the client to bolster their claim that everything is actually all my fault, and we get into a giant argument, and suddenly they have a field crew of, like, 60 people all making phone calls and arguing with me and the neighbors come over and start asking questions like, "who cut down all the trees in my yard? and "hey, who drove into my front door?" and I'm trying to yell over the din and nobody's paying me any attention.

Not really a great way to start the morning.

would you buy this house?

I've worked on some seriously contaminated sites, and I have close and personal experience with the fact that you can find contamination anywhere. Rural? Suburban? Expensive neighborhood? Doesn't matter. Especially in the northeast US, which has been industrialized for hundreds of years, you can't rely on looks to determine if the subsurface is clean. There are too many old industrial areas that have gone to seed decades before redevelopment, too many hobbyists with extensive solvent collections, and too many old farmers who accepted drums of sketchiness before RCRA (the resource conservation and recovery act) forced people to track hazardous waste from the cradle to the grave.

So, would you buy a house in/on/over a contaminated site?

As an environmental professional, my answer would be "it depends". First of all, I'd want a deep discount, because even if I'm ok with living there, it doesn't mean I wouldn't have a tough time selling later. But setting costs aside, for me it would depend on the type of contamination and the relative risk.

I wouldn't buy a house with a contaminated drinking water supply. I'm not a big fan of private well water in general because it's another system to maintain/worry about. I wouldn't want to buy a house with contaminated well water because if I need to have a treatment system, then I'd need to either maintain it or accept that someone else (a regulatory agency or whoever "owns" the contamination) will be trooping into my basement on a regular basis for the foreseeable future to sample/maintain it.

Likewise, I wouldn't buy a house with a VOC (volatile organic compound) problem in the shallow subsurface. I'd be resigned to regular monitoring of the soil gas beneath the house and the indoor air, and I may have to deal with the noise and bother of a soil vapor extraction system to remove contaminated air from under the basement floor.

I would be ok with a house above a plume of contaminated groundwater as long as I'm not drinking it and it's deep enough/non-volatile enough that it would not pose a concern of contamination getting into the soil gas and/or the basement. I would be perfectly fine with non-volatile contamination in the soil, such as metals or asbestos. Worst case scenario, I'd build out a seriously extensive front and back patio, arrange to truck in a foot or so of fresh dirt around the rest of the yard to cover any surface contamination, plant vegetables in raised beds, and keep any digging to a minimum.

In reality, most of the contamination you'll find in and around private homes is from the house itself. House built before 1978? You probably have a lead problem at the drip line of the outside wall and several feet out from the house as well as on the inside. Same lead problem for houses built near busy roads. Have a reasonably high-end house built before about 1980? You may have asbestos insulation around pipes and in the ceiling. Do you keep a collection of stains, paints, and paint thinner from various projects in the basement? Do you smoke? The VOCs from that stuff will overwhelm the contaminants from a nearby groundwater plume.

My tolerance for contaminated property would probably be considered to be reasonably high. But I realize that's easy for me to say - I'm not the person trying to unload a house that's lost a huge chunk of value because of real or perceived contamination.

2015 recap

This is the time of year that I usually do my monthly recap of the year/monthly meme, where I post the first sentence of the first post of each month. Last year's version, with links to the previous iterations, is here.

This year was not a good year for posting. So rather than select among my sad number of posts in 2015 (26!) I figured I'd do a general overview of the year.

Some people in real life and the blogosphere have expressed concern because my posting frequency has dropped off. But actually, I didn't post as much because I had a bunch of other (mostly positive) things going on and other distractions. For me, 2015 was a pretty good year. In comparison, 2010 was a pretty bad year (I summed it up in this post as "thank God that's over") and 2011 had notable highs and lows personally and professionally.

I would sum up 2015 as "busy" for me. I did a ton of traveling, often on short notice. I stayed overnight (in hotels) in 10 states, stayed more than 50 nights in one hotel, and worked overtime (more than 40 hours) more than half of the weeks this year. I think my maximum number of hours worked in one week was about 75. I also spent a big chunk of the year doing "stretch" work - new tasks that were technically challenging. 

I still have that stack of post-it notes with ideas for blog posts - a few of them are complicated and I need to rethink them, and a few are a bit "fresh" and need to wait some more time so that I can anonymize them a bit more. But let's see if I can post here a little more consistently in 2016.

PG test pitfalls

A while back, I discussed how I prepared for the ASBOG tests that are required for the Professional Geologist (PG) license in many US states. I mentioned that I did successfully pass both tests (Fundamentals of Geology and Practice of Geology). But when I was actually in the exam room, which parts did I have the most trouble with?

I didn't have too much trouble with the Practice of Geology - as an environmental geologist, I had all of the hydrogeology down cold. I'd also gone a little overboard on the oil and gas calculations when I was studying, since those were new to me. So even though I didn't have any professional experience with those topics, I was ok with those questions.

I was able to work out some of the obscure vocabulary questions by process of elimination. And I could get through some of the longer form questions (like the ones that referred to a geologic map and asked "which event happened first") also by process of elimination. The parts that tripped me up tended to be the areas of geology that I had some familiarity with through work (like engineering geology and geophysics) but that I don't actually do myself. When I came to specific questions in those topics, it turned out that my vague and minimal studying wasn't quite enough to answer them.

I ended up taking my PG tests with several people I knew personally or by association, and most of them failed the Fundamentals of Geology test. I wasn't comfortable asking them what parts they particularly struggled with, especially considering that I ended up doing ok. So I figured I'd put it to the general readership: if you took either test, how did you do with the material? Did you discover any unexpected gaps in your cramming education?

outside office work

As I've moved into more analysis/inside technical work, I've occasionally had to work long hours inside. Whenever I need to do this, I'm reminded of how much more draining office work is. Sure, in the field I'll work 10-11 hour days with no ill effects, but a lot of that time is running around, collecting measurements, taking notes, and watching contractors.

I fit the extra office-type work in the office. I'm not the sort of person who can work well at home - I prefer to have a clean break from whatever is stressing me out. Even in grad school, where my setup for my apartment and my office at school was essentially the same, I would still make the trek in to do my homework. That means that in a pinch, I'll haul myself all the way to the office on a weekend to work. And because I'm a morning person, and if I'm stressed/under deadline, I will tend to go to bed early in an attempt to get more sleep and then wake up extremely early, I do all my extra office work before hours. By the time close of business rolls around, I may have already put in 10 hours and am wiped out.

I have coworkers who prefer to work extremely late, and ones who prefer to hide out at home to avoid distractions. I also used to work with someone who would take his stuff to a local bar to catch up on work. Of course, the best alternative would be to have a reasonable schedule and not have to work a ton of hours to catch up, but with project-based work, we rarely have the luxury of spreading out the workload.

a rough project...

I haven't told any nightmare field stories in a while...

I was in charge of a big field project that was just a big mess. Budget, politics, technical requirements, personality conflicts... everything was hard. And on top of that, we had epically bad luck. Things broke that nobody knew could even break. If there was a utility line located anywhere on the property line, we would find it the hard way. Maybe not by drilling (because soon I was utterly paranoid and had the drillers hand digging to 5 feet), but by driving over it, running into it - you name it, it got damaged.

Sometimes projects are lousy. But this project was not only terrible, but it dragged on and on. The core field people (those who were in the project for the duration), who had a combined 80+ years of field experience, all responded differently to the stress.

One person slowly built up a bottomless pit of rage, to the point at which he started pacing and muttering incoherently. He never actually released it (he did that on the next project), but he got so bad, with anger just radiating out of him, that even the client representative and regulators were afraid to approach him. Another broke in a different way: he got so sick of stupid interruptions and changes in direction that his repressed sarcasm boiled over and he got booted off site (permanently) for insubordination. When I heard about that, I yelled at him, "you were supposed to direct them to me when they're being ridiculous! It's my job to debase myself and agree to outrageous demands so that we can keep this job moving forward and end it!"

Me, I became The Girl who Cries in the Trailer.

I would get screamed at, or I'd have to referee a fight between subcontractors, or something would break, or the oversight person would announce that we had broken another of a million little rules and the job was shut down until I could fix it, and I would go into crisis management mode at the scene. Then, I would drive off to the trailer, start the incident report or the updated schedule or the work plan modification, and I would cry over my paperwork. Or, I'd close the door behind whoever had just made my life miserable and bury my face in my hands for a few minutes.

We survived, Mr. Insubordinate and Mr. Rage and me. We went on to do other difficult and technically challenging jobs. But we all agreed that we would not work on another project as bad as that one again.

arrogance

I occasionally see badly-written reports that will be read and picked apart by other stakeholders, and  bidders who blatantly ignore proposal requirements. I have also attended meetings with technical experts who had no idea what they were supposed to discuss.

These are usually not signs of incompetence. They indicate arrogance - someone or an organization that thinks that they are above such inconsequential things as evidence or support for their position.

I have never been able to just waltz into a room and expect that everyone will think that I'm brilliant (or even that I know what I'm talking about). I've never been the "golden child" or the person who everyone can see is "going places". I was an academic nonentity in high school and in college. After I'd established myself in the field, I still had to fight to prove myself when I was job hunting. And I'm still (like, this year) getting strange "wow, you can give a presentation" compliments years after I thought that particular question was settled.

All those ridiculous experiences have given me a decent-sized chip on my shoulder. But they also mean that I take my shit seriously. And when I offer a technical opinion, you'd better believe I can back it up.

I have been gratified to see that certain persons/organizations that have been particularly careless because of overwhelming arrogance have gotten burned recently. Of course, some of the offenders that I've worked with/around more closely seem to be doing perfectly fine. Sigh.

the great outoors

While I was writing this post, I was wrestling with issues of privilege and class. I've always been wary of condescension when working around folks living in rural poverty, or folks who chose a lifestyle that mimics that rural poverty, such as survivalists. The original post that I had linked to had some of that condescension, and possibly one reason it prompted so much discussion.

I grew up in a suburban, relatively wealthy town. At the same time, most of my extended family lived in a rough part of the city. We don't like to talk about class in the US, but it exists. I lived in a world where you fought for the best education and had to get into a "good school" (not public) so you get an advanced degree, preferably to be a doctor or a lawyer. They lived in a world where protecting your own was more important, and education was ok if it got you something concrete, like a good local job. Growing up, my cousins considered me a strange creature with no discernible skills and too many big words, but I was family and I was theirs. That acceptance was a big warm blanket when I was floundering at connecting with my own peers.

I went to an expensive small liberal arts school (SLAC) that drew the bulk of its students from the big cities/suburbs of the northeastern US. Not everyone was wealthy or had family resources. I knew kids who worked in the potato fields at home when they were not at school. I also knew kids whose parents didn't believe in education or didn't care to fill out the financial aid forms, and those kids worked off what they could and borrowed what they couldn't. The local strip clubs had a talent bonanza because of this. But the culture of the school was one of privilege, and the poor kids either kept quiet or left.

So I got into geology in college, and academically, it was the perfect fit. I could go outside and poke around in the dirt, and I could answer all sorts of interesting questions. Socially/emotionally, it was a bust. I wonder if part of the reason was because all the "cool kids" were all about backpacking and spending summers hiking (e.g. not toiling away in retail or some other crappy job you kept from high school) and having your own gear (all of it) and eating all organic this and that from whole paycheck whole foods. I was aware about the costs of the blithe earthy crunchy lifestyle, and extremely aware that other students didn't have the means to participate. See also this post about field course costs. This discomfort probably manifested as not having sufficient "team spirit".

In general, geologists (and other scientists/engineers in the environmental field) love to be outside. We pick up our love for the great outdoors from all sorts of places - from our family, from poking around a local woody patch, from organized activity like the Scouts. But how many geologists actually grew up out there, not using nature as a personal playground, but as the way you got your food or the wood to supplement/keep the house warm? I have a feeling the percentage is relatively low. If so, is that a problem? Well, if young geologists have been living in a social bubble, it can cause some real issues with perceived safety, community/resident communication, and effectiveness once they're out in the field.

social media/networking

Geologists/environmental folks, do you use social networking sites to keep in touch with colleagues? And how do you use them?

I do use linkedin, as I alluded to in this post when I was trying to find old classmates. I keep facebook strictly personal, although I may have an odd ex-coworker/close friend there. I've also been invited into ResearchGate, but I'm not an academic and I have a hard enough time keeping track of anyone on the two social media sites I do have accounts with.

I think this varies more by personality than by industry, but in my case I keep my contact list relatively small. No relatives or spouses of coworkers (sigh) in entirely unrelated industries. I also don't accept requests from people I don't know who are just keeping a giant pile of contacts for their own purposes. The worst offenders for these seem to be recruiters and salespeople who are trying to get buyers for generic industry stuff (labs, material suppliers).

I accept requests from all coworkers and former colleagues (academic or industry) without question. Same thing with clients, although in one case I ended up putting someone on hold for a while while I beefed up my profile so it reflected something of my experience with that type of project. In the past, I've been hesitant to accept requests from subcontractors, but I've since relented. As it turns out, most of the subs I interact with on a daily basis aren't networking on linkedin (with me, anyway), which makes sense - they already know my full contact info, and if I leave, they can find where I went in about six seconds anyway. My corner of the environmental consulting world is very small.

As I was writing this, I checked to see how many contacts I actually had - about 100 on linkedin. Once I was actually there, I started poking around. Of the former work colleagues, a few people have struck out on their own and formed their own companies. Probably half are working for different firms than when we worked together, but I think that percentage is relatively high because the people on linkedin are more likely to be mobile than those who are not. Several are actively job-hunting. One has grown an epic beard and become a farmer. So, a mixed bunch.

muttering

When I'm overseeing contractors, I am generally easygoing. I don't get worked up if the geology doesn't cooperate, or if a contractor's piece of equipment malfunctions and needs some sort of fix. Stuff happens. Drillers who I've worked with on long projects and/or projects that have been prone to various technical obstacles know that I'm basically relaxed about these sorts of budget/schedule busters.

That doesn't mean I'm easygoing with my equipment or what I need to do. My coworkers know when I'm having technical difficulties, because a constant stream of muttering/mild curses comes from my office/around the corner of a recalcitrant piece of equipment.

I recently was doing some sampling while I had contractors doing prep work that didn't require any oversight on my part. Specfically, I was using a bailer to collect water samples from an extremely deep well with a water level greater than 200 feet below grade (don't ask). And every time I pulled up the bailer, no matter how careful I was, I inevitably tangled the string into a massive Gordian knot that I could either pick apart or cut and knot back together. I had no idea about this, but apparently the acoustics of the place were such that the contractors could hear every choice word. According to the crew, the contrast between easygoing overseer and cranky worker was so funny, they hung out for a while just to appreciate how much fun I was not having.

Oh well, some days I'm the only entertainment we get.

being famous

When I had my very first annual review, my manager asked where I wanted to go with my career. I had no idea: at the time, I was just focused on learning everything I could about the basics of fieldwork, analysis of results, and writing reports. I'd never thought of myself as particularly ambitious, but as my career gained steam, I did develop Ideas about where I'd like to end up.

I'd like to be an Expert, the sort of person who you'd call if you wanted to figure out a particularly thorny problem or if you needed someone to testify about geological stuff. The sort of person who would be a respected adversary if you ended up sitting across the table from her in big meetings involving potential litigation. So I taught courses and tried to work on big sites with complicated geology and enough contamination that it was worth someone's while to collect lots of geologic data and analyze it. And maybe, when I'm old and ready to retire, I'll be famous enough that people will seek me out to advise on interesting problems.

So that was what I was trying to do. In reality, attending conferences doesn't bring in any money. And the number of complicated sites that need lots of technical work is dwindling, and if the issues are really exciting, they bring in the famous Experts, the people I'm aspiring to be.

I was so focused on Science that I missed something else entirely. While geologic analysis is great when you can get it, what I was mostly doing was spending 10, 12, 14 hours a day with an army of rotating subcontractors. Standing out in the rain while trying to take notes. Logging sample after sample after sample in 2-foot increments. Giving team briefings and then trying to get everyone to stick with what I said we were supposed to do.

I already know people. I have an easy rapport with the management of a bunch of firms I've used before, because we've worked through complicated logistics together. Drillers and geophysicists and hazardous waste specialists have been in the field with me while I regrouped and fixed mistakes and tried to keep impossible projects on track. And honestly, I'm not sure how many knowledgeable but extremely young-looking, female geologists there are in my area. So I'm easy to remember. This was brought home to me recently when a new crew came to a site I was working at, and everybody piled out of the truck and someone said, "hey, it's Short Geologist!" and they were happy to see me and I had No Idea who they were.

I may not be the person everyone has on speed-dial to fix major environmental problems. But I do know how to get good data and figure out what's going on out there, and I'd like to think I'm starting to turn into an Expert, in my own way.

writing for free

This recent post on AAM regarding writing for free (for an established for-profit publisher) collected a big pile of comments.

I've been asked to contribute blog posts/articles for large, established scientific-type organizations. With minimum article length and posting frequency requirements. For free (oh, sorry, for increased visibility and professional reputation).

Here's the thing. Accidental Remediation is a hobby. It doesn't pay the bills. The job I actually get paid for involves travel, erratic internet, and long hours. So I'm not going to commit myself to a set number of articles following a specified standard for the long term, for free. And since it's pseudonymous, I don't get any professional boost from what I write here.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be A Writer when I grew up. But my personality is not terribly well suited to being a professional writer in the modern era: I am not a hustler. I do best with a steady paycheck and healthcare, so that I have space to worry about everything else. And I do (mostly) enjoy the environmental biz, where I work hard and do interesting science and my contributions are recognized by being well paid.

firing contractors

A comment on the previous post raised the issue of "firing" drillers/drilling companies. We all have different tolerance levels for bullshit from contractors. I look young (read: inexperienced), I'm a bit of a crier, and I can be a perfectionist about the standards I hold the contractors to. This may lead you to think that I kick drillers off-site left and right.

Au contraire. I may be young looking, picky, and sensitive. But I'm also stubborn and forever convinced that I can work with/around anyone. I also haven't worked with that many drillers or other contractors who were unsafe and insubordinate, so if I have to stand on someone and nag them to wear their PPE (personal protective equipment), invite field safety audits (by my firm or theirs), stop them every 20 minutes to change what they're doing, and extend the morning tailgate meeting to an hour-long roundtable discussion, then that's what I'll do.

For projects I manage, I would be a lot more proactive about booting unsafe/difficult drillers, because I wouldn't expect the people working for me to put up with what I'll put up with. I've never had an issue with drillers/other subcontractors on projects I've managed, though. That's probably a numbers issue - I've worked with many more individual drillers/contractors than projects I've managed.

I have not fired or been involved in projects that fired drilling companies. We work out the end of the contract and then go our separate ways. The largest investigations tend to go in phases (and be contracted in phases) as we look at previous results and adjust what the next phase should entail. And that usually means sending out new specifications, and going through the bidding/driller selection process again. That's the point at which I take a hard look at the drilling company's performance. Did we just have one bad egg (and I can request someone else), or is it a larger bad management/culture issue? Maybe we pick someone new next time. If we routinely have problems with a particular drilling firm, we drop them from the bidders list.

I've had very few individual drillers and firms that were unsafe/insubordinate/unable to do the work. Maybe I've just been lucky, but I think that as the environmental industry matures and consolidates, the "rogue" firms and drillers have been pushed out, and the number of "firings" have decreased.

managing in tears

This is the story of my introduction to project management...

I'd just been made project manager (PM) for a site that I was the field manager for. I'd been keeping a bunch of balls in the air, and apparently I was a little too good at that particular skill, because I was asked to take it over entirely. I'm not a believer in doing the fieldwork for projects I manage (that's a topic for another post), but we were short-staffed and so I went.

While that particular phase of fieldwork was happening, we were also deep in the weeds with another phase of the project that was totally outside my field of expertise. The previous PM had a couple of different proposals for how the work should be done, but things on the ground had changed significantly.

As the field manager, I had enough on my hands already. We had a regular field crew plus multiple contractors, plus tricky site access I was trying to work around, plus an inflexible schedule. And things weren't going all that well. The stress had built up with one of my coworkers (Bob) throughout the week. Then, Bob discovered that he'd made a vast and long-term sample label mistake (this is why we need consistent nomenclature!) that was partially because of my unclear directions (I was distracted!), and he totally blew up. Had an epic meltdown, complete with yelling, swearing, and drop-kicking of hard hat a fair distance. Then the phone rang.

I saw it was the client calling, so I hustled over to my truck, which was parked, like, 15 feet from the action. I hopped in, and he said, "I'm going to need you to change your proposal to do this radically different thing that you have zero knowledge of. Also, because of this logistical issue that's been a problem for the whole project, I'm going to need a revised budget estimate by, oh, close of business today."... and I burst into tears.

Not knowing what else to do, I hung up on him.

Then I cried for a while because the project was going all wrong and Bob had just yelled at me and I had no clue what I was doing and I had just hung up on the client. I pulled it together and called him back ("sorry, bad cell phone reception!") and wrangled an extension without getting hysterical again, rubbed my eyes, and stepped out from my truck (still parked 15 feet from the subcontractors) and carried on with the fieldwork.

The subs were very quiet for the rest of the day.

Anywhoo, everything worked out ok in the end. The budget wasn't irreparably busted, nobody got hurt, and I learned that the world wouldn't end if I said "no" to clients occasionally. But "trial by fire" is not a management training experience I'd recommend.

the blog persona

We are in an era where sometimes it seems like everyone and his brother has a blog.

I'm close to three people who independently have a passion for the same subject - one which I have no particular interest or expertise in. They each have a blog on that subject, but they approach it from completely different angles, with varied writing styles, website layouts, and experiences they draw from. I get a kick out of seeing how each person's personality gets channeled into their writing.

A regular reader will definitely discern something of my personality (and foibles!) from this blog. I think it's fairly obvious that I'm, well, me, not some borg-like collective of environmental folks. However. Short Geologist is only one facet of my personality. Hell, I started writing because I was trying to excise the stories that I was carrying around, so that I wouldn't become an inappropriate geology-spouting bore.

After more than 5 years, Short Geologist has sort of taken on a mind of her own - somewhat of a perfectionist, more than a little high-strung, and highly opinionated. But that's ok - getting that out of my system allows me to be fair-minded and to take the broader view in the office and in the field.

presentation feedback

I'm a big fan of feedback - I have a thick skin regarding edits for readability or technical content, as discussed here.

But what about feedback on presentations? I recently had a presentation run-through with some folks who were particularly invested in the outcome of one of my talks, and the criticisms I received on my speaking skills/presentation felt more... personal, somehow.

How do you carry yourself? How do you project your voice? Can someone see your diagram labels from the back of the room? Can you get through a presentation with only a few phrases as cues, without reading from notes? Can you keep still?

I did feel a little overwhelmed with the rapid-fire commentary (fix this! try this other thing! too many words on this slide! don't fumble the laser pointer!), but I was glad to have the feedback. Besides, I knew that any questions or comments from the official audience would be a cinch after all that.

alone in the hotel

I have an overactive imagination and I can scare myself easily. So if I'm in the right mood, I can definitely freak myself out when I'm by myself late at night in a hotel room. I don't fret about actual potential intruders, perhaps because a stranger once barricaded himself in my hotel room (long story) and I know I can handle myself well in that sort of situation.

When I get into a certain mood in the hotel room, there are particular features I'm especially aware of. So for Halloween, I figured I'd list them, as well as the reasons I keep an eye on them:

1. Drains: It (I made the mistake of sort-of watching this because it was in the background at a Halloween party)
2. Mirrors: there's a million iterations of "freaky thing in the mirror", but I grew up with Bloody Mary - say her name in the dark in front of a mirror three times, and she's come out and... do something terrible. This completely freaked me out when I was a kid at sleepovers. I wouldn't participate, but I also figured if Bloody Mary was going to come out, she wasn't just going to stop at the bathroom door.
3. Closets: I heard a third- or fourth- hand account of a family that moved to a new house and the young daughter didn't like her bedroom because she didn't like "the lady who lived in the closet".
4. Under the bed: there could be anything under there. It's just dust bunnies and errant tissues, but you don't check under the bed when you first get into the room because who does that? And looking under the bed would be ridiculous... when it's not 2AM and you've just woken up from a nightmare.
5. Windows: again, a million iterations of "freaky thing looking in/coming through the window" but mine is Spring-Heeled Jack. Or Buffy (the movie) where vampires come and scratch at your third-story window.

So what this means is that when I wake up freaked out and need to pee (of course), after I do my business, I do a final check behind the shower curtain and wait for the last second to turn off the bathroom light. Then I race across the room, leap into the bed to avoid ankle-grabbers, lie on my back, and my eyes go window-closet-bathroom until I eventually fall asleep.